


enchanted, enchanting

by moondanse



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Background Relationships, Clairvoyance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Realism, Minor Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Moon Taeil, Minor Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moondanse/pseuds/moondanse
Summary: Jeno knows what to do when he has a bad vision: gather his wits, recall as much information as he can, and let the proper authorities know. It's never failed him before, and as traumatic as the dreams may be, he takes solace in knowing that he's saving lives.It's the good visions - the visions ofhim- that he doesn't know how to handle. Especially not when the boy from his dreams shows up at his brother's bakery, bright and smiling and everything Jeno's ever hoped for.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Comments: 24
Kudos: 92





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hello! welcome to my new passion project, which i am very excited for! clairvoyant jeno is a character concept that is very close to my heart, and i've been wanting to write about him for a long, long time. this will be more focused on jeno's character than the romance aspect, but it WILL have romance! it's just... a slow burn. the slowest of burns.
> 
> before we get started, i have a few important notes! since this is different from what i usually write, i wanna make sure everyone knows what they're getting into!
> 
> • this takes place in a fictional small town, located in some vague undisclosed location. it is also set in the same universe as my nahyuck oneshot, [something tragic, something magic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812286). you don't have to read that to read this, but it'd be a fun little bonus!  
> • due to the nature of jeno's visions, there will be some graphic depictions of traumatic experiences - mostly things like natural disasters, accidents, etc. i will be sure to trigger warning before each chapter to be safe.  
> • jeno suffers from ptsd because of the visions. this fic will contain panic attacks and a not-so-healthy amount of existential dread. again, i'll warn for these things, but proceed with caution!  
> • more tags may be added as the story progresses. right now there's no planned chapter count, and i don't have an update schedule, but i'll try to post new chapters consistently! this is my first chaptered work so please bear with me.
> 
> thank you to [ellie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haedeluna) and [izzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbeamjd) for helping me out with this! i love u both very much <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: fire, mentions of death.

_ It’s hot. Sweltering. The air around him is heavy and stifling. He can barely breathe. _

_ His eyes and throat are itchy with smoke, and he stumbles through the house, coughing. His vision is blurred, mind still groggy with interrupted sleep. He sees a flash of orange out of the corner of his eye: fire. The heat is almost unbearable, and he can hardly tell where he is - but he has to get to her. He has to make sure she’s safe. _

_ Heart racing. Adrenaline. Fear. Determination. He runs to her bedroom, tripping over a stray toy on the ground. The flames are catching up to him. The smoke has filled his lungs, now. Swallowed him up. Down the hallway, the baby is crying. _

_ If he can’t make it out, he needs to at least make sure that she can. She’s still so young. She has so much life left to live. Tears pinprick in his eyes, mingling with the smoke. He surges ahead, through the sea of orange, cursing whatever God allowed this to happen. _

_ This isn’t fair. He doesn’t want to die, not like this. The heat licks at his ankles, but he hardly feels the pain. All he feels is anger. This isn’t fair, this isn’t fair, this isn’t fair— _

  
  
  
  


Jeno wakes with a start. His whole body is drenched in sweat and his limbs are shaking. He clears his throat with a violent cough, trying to banish the horrible ashy feeling still stuck in his lungs. There are tears in his eyes as he reaches for his phone, fingers working on autopilot.

“Hyung,” Jeno croaks into the receiver.

Doyoung is at his side in less than a minute.

  
  
  
  
  


Doyoung calls the fire department while Jeno sips at some warm milk, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and fresh pajamas adorning his body. It’s around three in the morning - a few hours before the fire is supposed to happen. Jeno tries to calm his heart with deep, even breaths. But he can’t easily forget the itch of flames engulfing him, nor the waves of fear and anger that accompanied them. He swallows and blinks back some tears.

The feelings are always the hardest part. Jeno thinks he could handle a simple nightmare if that’s all it was - a nightmare. But the visions are always more than that. It’s like being thrust into someone else’s body, thinking their thoughts and feeling their feelings. Jeno doesn’t have any kids (he’s hardly an adult himself), but he knows what it’s like to fear for your child’s life. He’s experienced it too many times to count by now.

His mind is still racing with worry when Doyoung sits next to him on the bed. 

“How are you doing, kiddo?” he sighs, running a gentle hand through Jeno’s hair. “The fire department is headed to the neighborhood you mentioned right now. They’ll check every house and building nearby.”

Jeno nods. It takes a moment for him to find his voice; it always does. But Doyoung’s words offer at least some comfort - now he knows everyone will be safe. Most likely. He doesn’t allow himself to think about the alternative.

“Could be better,” he chuckles, offering Doyoung a small smile. Doyoung sighs. He doesn’t like how Jeno is always trying to minimize his pain with laughter. “Did they recognize the description of the family I gave?”

“No, but I only spoke to a few phone operators. They’re looking into it as we speak. It’ll be okay, Jen. Don’t worry too much.”

He swallows, throat still thick with phantom ash and panic. “Easier said than done, hyung.”

“I know.” Doyoung wraps an arm around his shoulders and squeezes. “I know. Now come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

  
  
  
  
  


Unsurprisingly, Jeno doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night. He rises at eight in the morning with dark circles under his eyes and a heavy weight on his shoulders. Doyoung is in the kitchen making breakfast when he emerges. He takes one look at Jeno and frowns.

“What are you doing?” He waves his spatula at him in what Jeno is sure is supposed to be a menacing gesture, but he only looks silly. It’s almost enough to bring a smile to his face -  _ almost. _ “Go back to bed.”

Jeno rubs at his eyes. It still feels like there’s some smoke stuck there, even though he knows there isn’t.

“My shift starts in thirty minutes,” he says with a yawn. 

“No, no it doesn’t. Not anymore.” 

“But hyung—”

“Jeno. Go to sleep. You had a rough night. I’ll get someone to cover your shift. And if nobody is available, I’ll do it myself.”

Jeno wants to protest some more, but he knows it’s no use. Not when Doyoung sets his mind to something. 

“Fine,” he sighs. Before he retreats back to his room, he reaches over and plucks a piece of toast from Doyoung’s hands, shoving it into his mouth. “Thanks, hyung.”

Doyoung scoffs, but smiles at him fondly as he retreats down the hallway. “No problem, kid. Now get some rest. And don’t even  _ think  _ about leaving this apartment while I’m gone!”

Jeno says nothing. He doesn’t like making promises he can’t keep.

  
  
  
  
  


He leaves the apartment.

Despite his older brother’s wishes, Jeno doesn’t sleep. Falling asleep after a vision is always like treading into a minefield. He’d rather not risk whatever horrifying images decide to haunt him in his dreams this time. Instead, he lays around on his phone until he hears Doyoung leave for the bakery. Then, he pulls on a sweatshirt and some jeans and heads out.

He lets his feet carry him through the town with no particular destination in mind. The fall air is crisp around him, and Jeno breathes it in in generous gulps, happy to have something to replace the suffocating feeling in his lungs. He’s exhausted, but there’s no way he’s staying cooped up inside his room all day. He’d rather work a full shift at the bakery during rush hour. Not that Doyoung would ever let him.

Jeno doesn’t know how long he wanders around, stepping on crunchy leaves and eavesdropping on passers by. Eventually he stops in front of a familiar building, the words  _ Daydream Apothecary  _ hanging in a loopy font above the door. He enters without a second thought. A bell on the door chimes to signify his arrival.

“Jeno!”

It’s mere seconds before he’s being pulled into a hug. He feels his cheeks flush red with embarrassment; he’s never been much of a hugger, unless he’s particularly close with someone. And he wouldn’t exactly call himself  _ close  _ with Jaemin. 

“Hi,” he says, pulling back awkwardly. He looks around the shop and finds it completely empty, save for the two of them. “Slow day today?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin sighs. He starts walking back towards his station at the cash register and Jeno wordlessly follows. “How are you? I’m glad you stopped by.”

Jaemin’s smile is blinding, just like everything else about him. Jeno likes Jaemin; they’ve been friends since he first moved into town a few years ago. He’s kind and he doesn’t treat him with pity, like a lot of other people who know about his visions do. Jeno is thankful for that, even if sometimes Jaemin is slightly overbearing.

“I’m okay,” he lies. He trains his eyes on the potions lining the shelves to avoid making eye contact. “Hyung gave me the day off today, so I’m just kind of chilling.”

“Mmm,” Jaemin hums. He leans on the counter and gives Jeno a look that makes him nervous. “Do you need more calming elixir? I can grab you a batch right now.”

Jeno appreciates that Jaemin knows what to say without pushing too far. He can clearly sense that Jeno isn’t as okay as he says, can probably see the dark circles under his eyes, and yet he chooses not to mention it. Instead, he offers to help in the only way he knows how: with his family’s potions.

“Oh, that’d be great, thank you,” he says. Jeno finds Daydream’s calming elixirs to be especially helpful for sleeping after a bad vision. Like melatonin, or sleeping pills - only it also helps to wipe his mind completely clean, ensuring he sleeps undisturbed. 

At first Jeno didn’t like to accept help from anything less than natural. He worried that practically drugging himself with magic would affect his powers, that he might miss an important premonition. As painful as they are to have, he knows they help to save lives. He couldn’t bear to live with himself if his cowardice meant someone died too early.

But after trying out a few of Jaemin’s potions over the past couple of years, he’s found that it doesn’t matter what he tries. If he’s going to have a vision, he will have it regardless. But the magic helps to subdue his other, more regular dreams. Instead of reliving the same horrifying events over and over again while he sleeps, he can simply cease to exist for a few hours. 

Jeno really, really appreciates that.

“Cool.” Jaemin grins at him, then moves to pull a vial off a nearby shelf. Jeno takes the opportunity to check the time on his phone - it’s just past noon. He’s still got several hours until Doyoung comes home and yells at him for going out.

“Thanks, Jaem,” Jeno says as he watches his friend pack up the potion in a little box for safe keeping. He pulls out his wallet, but Jaemin stops him before he can swipe his card.

“You’re welcome,” he says. “It’s on me. Feel better soon, Jen.”

Jeno blushes again; he wants to insist on paying for the potion, but he doesn’t have the heart to fight Jaemin’s smile. So he settles for nodding, instead.

“Thanks,” he repeats. 

The bells on the door jingle on his way out.

  
  
  
  
  


He stops at the grocery store on the way back to the apartment to pick up some of Doyoung’s favorite desserts (a peace offering, since he knows he’ll find out one way or another that he didn’t stay in). The exhaustion begins to settle in his bones as he waits for the cashier to ring up his items. On the television overhead, a news story plays.

_ A dangerous gas leak was discovered in a residential area just north of Meadowvale this morning. Officials say if they hadn’t dealt with it swiftly, it likely would have caused a devastating outbreak of fires within the community. The local fire department thanks an anonymous source for tipping them off about this near catastrophe. Here’s a word from Deputy Fire Marshall Evans: _

_ Without that call, who knows how many people would have lost their homes, or worse, their lives. We’re grateful for those who can foresee such events, because it helps make my job a hell of a lot easier, and our communities a hell of a lot safer. So next time you meet a supernatural, make sure to thank them, ya hear? _

The man on screen lets out a hearty laugh and Jeno’s entire body heats up. He can feel the eyes of the cashier and at least three other patrons on him - clearly they’d been listening, as well, and clearly they know he must have been the “anonymous source.” He’s the only clairvoyant within at least 100 miles, probably more. And while he’s met several witches, vampires, and other magical beings - he’s never met anyone else like him. He shrinks into the collar of his hoodie, wishing he could disappear. 

“That’ll be $15.56,” the cashier says, smacking her gum and looking directly into Jeno’s eyes. He feels the tips of his ears burning red and wordlessly nods, sliding his card into the reader.

As he walks home, the fire marshall’s words ring through his ears.

_ Next time you meet a supernatural, make sure to thank them, ya hear? _

A supernatural.

The word bothers Jeno more than the lack of thanks he’d gotten from the store-goers, even though they’d clearly been listening and clearly knew who he was. Jeno is used to not getting thanks; he doesn’t care about that so long as he’s helping people in danger.

But “a supernatural?” He’s a person too, just like everyone else. The distinction is so othering, like being able to witness future events somehow makes him less human.

Jeno doesn’t want to be a supernatural. He never asked for this. 

When he gets home, he collapses face first into bed. Despite the stubbornness of his mind, his body has finally seemed to succumb to the lack of rest and decides to shut down. Jeno lets sleep wash over him with both reluctance and relief.

This time, he doesn’t dream of catastrophe. Instead, he dreams of a boy with warm eyes and a gentle, unwavering smile.


	2. serendipity

The visions of him - or as Jeno likes to call them, the _good_ visions - are almost as frequent as the bad ones, now. Maybe even more so.

Jeno doesn’t know the boy’s name, but it feels like he knows everything else about him. He’s memorized the warmth of his smile, the twinkling sound of his laugh, the way one of his teeth pokes out slightly further than the rest. And there are things he shouldn’t know, and yet inexplicably does, too - like the way he likes his sandwiches cut and that he’s a big spoon. 

It feels like Jeno’s known this boy all his life, and in a way, he sort of has.

The first “good vision” came when he was eleven. Jeno had woken up in tears, as he often did, but it felt different this time. These were happy tears. Overwhelmed tears. Tears that his prepubescent self couldn’t quite articulate when his parents asked him what was wrong.

“There was a boy,” Jeno had said. “He was holding my hand and we were laying in the grass, watching the stars. I felt really happy. So, so, so, so happy.”

His parents had exchanged glances, like they didn’t understand why he had come to their bed crying at 5am for this. It was clear to Jeno then that they didn’t get it.

“Oh, honey,” his mother had said, pulling a tiny Jeno into her lap. “That was just a normal dream, not a vision. You’re probably just lonely and wanting a friend. Don’t worry, I’m sure your first day of middle school will go great.”

Jeno knew this wasn’t about middle school. He wasn’t worried about that at all, hadn’t even thought about it until his mother brought it up. This was deeper than just wanting a friend. Jeno felt like he _knew_ this boy. Like he had always known him.

“No,” he whined, wriggling in his mother’s hold. “You don’t understand. It’s like—it feels like he’s really, really important. It was so real. I think he wants me to find him.”

Jeno’s father had smoothed over the hair on his forehead with a soft but dismissive smile. “Sometimes our dreams can make us feel like things are real when they aren’t,” he’d said. “But if he’s that important, then I’m sure you’ll find him someday.”

It had taken Jeno weeks to get over that initial vision - because he knew that’s what it was, a vision. His parents didn’t bring it up again, so neither did he. As time went on, he almost convinced himself he’d forgotten about it.

But then it happened again. Jeno was almost thirteen this time, his limbs beginning to stretch longer and his voice to pitch deeper. This dream was much like the last - him and a boy ( _the_ boy), walking through a city he didn’t recognize. They were holding hands again, though now that Jeno was older, the action seemed more intimate. He woke with burning cheeks and a thousand thoughts flying through his head.

When Jeno was fourteen, a girl in his science class asked him out. They were friends, but he couldn’t understand why she’d like him as more than that. When he’d asked her, she told him that she felt safe and comfortable around him. That he made her stomach flutter and her heartbeat a little bit faster. Jeno realized then that he knew exactly what she was talking about. But it wasn’t her face that he pictured when he thought of these feelings - it was _his._

This realization shocked Jeno. He didn’t tell anyone, not even Doyoung. That is, until he had a vision of the boy kissing him and he woke feeling more overwhelmed than he ever had before. Jeno had burst into his brother’s room in the middle of the night to tell him that he was in love. If it hadn’t been for the severity of his statement, Jeno thinks Doyoung may have killed him on the spot for interrupting his beauty sleep.

Now Jeno is twenty, and the boy in his visions is starting to look closer and closer to his current age. He tries not to let that observation freak him out too much.

  
  
  
  
  


Doyoung is cooking dinner in the kitchen when Jeno wakes up. He knows this because he can smell it the instant his vision fades and he slips back into consciousness. His body protests as he drags himself out of bed; it’s been a while since he had two visions in a row. The mental toll of using his power is of course often devastating, but the physical toll isn’t so light either. Jeno feels like he’s been run over by a truck.

But he also feels happy, because the literal boy of his dreams had held him close and told him he loved him. _“Just five more minutes,”_ the boy had whined into the nape of his neck, snuggling closer as Jeno tried to convince him to wake up. _“Five minutes always turns into twenty with you,”_ he’d joked. But he made no move to detach himself, and sure enough, the rest of the vision was simply Jeno listening to the sound of the boy’s breathing as he pressed himself into his back, hands laced together against his chest.

Knowing that he’s loved by someone - even if they’ve technically never met - is enough to push Jeno through to the dining room, where he slumps into a chair. The lingering fondness from the dream seeps through his skin, making him glow. Doyoung places a bowl of stew in front of him before taking a seat across the table.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he says with a smile. Jeno breathes in the delicious scent of the stew and hums. “How was your nap?”

“Great,” Jeno says. He can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face; dream boy’s warmth is inexplicably infectious. Doyoung notices immediately.

“Again?” he asks. “So soon after a bad one?”

Jeno shrugs. “Sometimes they happen one after another,” he says. “I’m kind of glad, though. I really needed that after last night.”

Doyoung grunts in affirmation, then takes a big bite of his stew. They eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Jeno devouring his bowl in record time to compensate for the fact that the only thing he’s eaten all day is the piece of bread he stole from Doyoung this morning. 

“Thanks, hyung,” he says after slurping down the last bit of broth in his bowl. “How was the bakery today?”

“Fine,” Doyoung responds. “Nobody was available on short notice so I covered your position up front. I’d almost forgotten how annoying dealing with customers is.”

Jeno laughs, his eyes crinkling into little half-moons. “That’s why you should appreciate us more, hyung,” he teases. “We do all the hard work for you.”

“Excuse you,” Doyoung scoffs. “Who is the one slaving away in the back to make sure we even have things to sell? Have you ever stood next to that oven all day? It’s torture, I’m telling you.”

“You’re the one who wanted to start your own bakery, hyung. Don’t blame me.”

“I will blame you as much as I want,” he complains. Jeno laughs again, and Doyoung sighs before changing the subject. “Oh - did you hear? The house on the hill finally sold.”

This catches Jeno’s attention. The house on the hill has been unoccupied for as long as he can remember, the dented “for sale” sign covered in graffiti and the lawn unkempt. When he and Doyoung first moved into town six or seven years ago, it had been the center of many rumors. 

_“It’s haunted,”_ the kids at school had told him. _“Anyone who goes in there never comes out.”_

Jeno knows now that it’s only half true. The house is haunted, alright - but only by the neighborhood poltergeists when they’re particularly bored. They’re completely harmless, albeit a little annoying. Jeno actually finds them to be quite funny.

“I didn’t think it was actually still for sale,” he marvels. “I figured the city had just sort of given up on it.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Apparently not,” he says. “Taeil said some paperwork recently went through for a new mortgage. I guess they’re set to move in later this week.”

“Wow.” Jeno takes a moment to digest this information. There’s going to be someone new in town. The last new people to arrive were him and Doyoung, after they’d moved away from their parents, and that was years ago now. He wonders what it’ll be like to welcome someone else into their tight-knit community.

Doyoung doesn’t have any more information about the family moving in, and Jeno doesn’t have the energy to be overly curious, so they finish eating in silence. It isn’t until Doyoung gets up to put the leftover ingredients in the freezer that Jeno remembers his impromptu grocery run.

“Jeno Lee,” Doyoung starts, staring at the ice cream bars that seem to have magically appeared next to the ice box. “Did you go to the store when I explicitly told you to stay in?”

“Whoops, I’m feeling really tired now hyung; I’m gonna call it a night!” Jeno hastily excuses himself, dumping his bowl in the sink and depositing a light kiss on his brother’s cheek. Doyoung barely has the time to scold him before he’s disappearing down the hall and into his bedroom.

  
  
  
  
  


When Jeno can’t sleep, he sketches. Tonight, he fills a two-page spread with the bright, violent colors of fire. On the next page, a boy with a warm smile coaxes the fire into a hearth.

  
  
  
  
  


Jeno wakes the next morning feeling much better than the day prior. He bounds into the kitchen with a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

“Good morning, hyung,” he greets Doyoung. “Will you let me go to work today? I’m feeling restless.”

Doyoung’s eyes narrow - he’s clearly not forgotten his little stunt from yesterday - but he lets out a resigned sigh nonetheless.

“I suppose,” he says. “But if you start to feel bad, come home right away. Okay?”

“I know, I know.” Jeno has no intentions to do so, but he agrees for the sake of avoiding another argument.

“I’m going to tell Yeeun to watch over you—she’ll tell me if you so much as _yawn_ — _”_

“Hyung, I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Less than an hour later he’s standing behind the bakery counter, smiling as he hands one of their regular customers her morning coffee and a pastry.

“Have a good day, ma’am,” he says. “And let me know what you think of the pastry. I added some extra frosting for you, on the house.”

“Oh, how sweet. Thank you, Jeno. I’ll be back tomorrow - tell your brother I said hello!”

“Will do!”

The woman leaves and Jeno turns to face Yeeun, his coworker and best friend. Her dark hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, little wisps framing her face. Jeno notes that it’s grown much longer in recent months; she used to not be able to pull it back at all. He remembers because he’d endured countless hours of her complaining about it getting in the way while she worked.

“What?” he laughs, turning to mess with the pastry display out of boredom. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not looking at you in any sort of way,” Yeeun says, rolling her eyes. “I just think you’re too good for this world, Jen. How can you smile like that after the vision you had?”

Jeno feels his gut twist uncomfortably. He shrugs. “I have to smile about something, don’t I?” he asks. “Anyway, I’m fine. I’m used to it.”

Yeeun sighs, then reaches out to ruffle Jeno’s hair. He whines in protest, ducking out of her reach. “That’s the thing, though,” Yeeun says. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

“Well, I am. Can we not talk about this?”

Yeeun frowns, but nods. “Alright, fine. Can you clean out the coffee maker while I check the cookies in the back? I put them in about thirty minutes ago.”

“You can’t clean it yourself after you check them?”

“I _can_ , but I’m asking you to do it. Pretty please?”

Jeno sticks his tongue out, but moves to do as he’s asked. He knows that Yeeun hates cleaning out the coffee maker - they all do - but it’s a necessary evil. And Jeno would rather avoid getting yelled at by Doyoung if they leave it unaddressed for too long.

Yeeun disappears into the back to check on the cookies. It’s slow today; there are only a few people sitting quietly at tables, typing away on their laptops, and there’s no line. Jeno takes the moment of respite to empty his brain and zone out.

“Hey, I’ll take over; you might wanna take this one,” another voice startles him out of his reverie. Jeno jumps, all but throwing the cleaning cloth he’s holding in his hands. He’d nearly forgotten that Jungwoo was in today, as well - he’s been uncharacteristically quiet in his corner, frosting pastries. Jeno doesn’t trust a quiet Jungwoo. He’s probably up to no good.

“You _want_ to clean out the coffee maker?” Jeno asks, narrowing his eyes. “What’s up with you today? You’re acting so… normal.”

Jungwoo laughs, taking the rag from Jeno’s hands and pushing him towards the register. “Nothing. I’m just doing you a favor. Now go help Jaemin with his order.”

Jaemin? Jeno looks over and sees the aforementioned boy waving at him from the register. _Oh._ He blushes, knowing Jungwoo has the wrong idea about their friendship, but he doesn’t have the heart to correct him.

“Jaemin, hey,” Jeno greets with a smile. “What can I get for you?”

Jaemin sends him one of his blinding grins and leans forward on the counter. Jeno clears his throat and awkwardly takes a step back.

“Hi Jeno,” Jaemin says. “What do you recommend?”

“Uh, well.” Jeno instinctively looks behind him to the menu board hanging on the wall, even though he’s had the menu memorized for ages. “That depends. Do you want something to eat or drink? And are you looking for something magical?”

“Surprise me?”

“O...kay?” Jeno looks over at Jungwoo, who gives him two big thumbs up. Useless. He turns back to Jaemin. “How about a lemon bar? They’re really good; Doyoung made them fresh this morning.”

“Sure. That sounds great.” 

Jeno nods and gets to work, selecting the best looking lemon bar from the display case. “Will you be eating here or heading out?” he asks. “And do you want something to drink? Jungwoo can make you a coffee or something.”

“Actually, I can’t,” Jungwoo chimes. “I’m still cleaning out the machine. But if you want a milkshake or something, I got you.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Jaemin says. “I have to head back to the shop after this, so I’ll just grab some water when I get there. I just stopped in to say hi on my break.”

“Oh. Okay.”

It takes Jeno a ridiculous amount of effort to slip Jaemin’s pastry inside a bag and hand it to him. He clumsily punches some numbers into the register, and Jaemin giggles as he hands him his card to pay. Jungwoo watches the whole exchange with obvious interest.

“Thanks, Jeno! I’ll see you later!” Jaemin calls out as he leaves. Jeno sends him a meek wave and a smile before letting his shoulders slump in relief.

“Dude,” Jungwoo snorts. “That was so awkward.”

Jeno’s cheeks flush red, and he busies himself with wiping the dust off the cash register to avoid eye contact.

“I can’t help it,” Jeno whines. “Jaemin is so… friendly.”

Jungwoo bursts out laughing then, just as Yeeun reemerges from the back with a tray full of freshly baked cookies. 

“Yeah, _friendly,_ ” he says. “He’s into you, man. You should shoot your shot.”

Jeno’s face goes pale. “What?”

“Oh, was that Jaemin just now?” Yeeun asks, totally casual. She begins putting the cookies into the display case one by one, ignoring the way Jeno is looking at her in horror.

“Noona, not you too,” he sputters. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure,” she laughs. “You don’t like him? I thought you did. You guys are always flirting whenever he comes by.”

Jeno frowns. He doesn’t think he’s been flirting - and if he has, then he really needs to apologize to Jaemin. “No,” he says. “I don’t. I—”

He cuts himself off, the red of his cheeks deepening as his mind jumps to the boy in his dreams. Jaemin is attractive and nice, but he doesn’t make his heart feel like it's floating out of his chest. He’s not the one Jeno thinks about when he’s coming down from post-bad-vision adrenaline, the one who makes him feel calm and excited at the same time. 

Jaemin is definitely not the one Jeno is crushing on.

“He’s just a friend.”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes, and Yeeun swats him with the strings of her apron. 

“Alright,” she says. “I believe you. Now enough messing around. That coffee machine isn’t going to clean itself.”

Jungwoo darts into the back room faster than Jeno can even process what’s happening, shouting something about preparing the dough for tomorrow’s batch of bread. When he realizes that he’s been saddled with cleaning _again,_ Jeno groans.

Maybe he should have stayed home today, after all.

  
  
  
  
  


It had always been Doyoung’s dream to open a bakery. He’s been baking since Jeno was young, at first with their mother and then on his own as he grew older. When he was eighteen, he took Jeno and moved them to Meadowvale, where he began working on his degree. A few years later and he was lucky enough to find a building for lease and a business partner willing to help him. The rest was history.

Jeno started working there as soon as Doyoung would allow him. Since then, their little bakery family has expanded to include Taeyong (Doyoung’s best friend and business partner), Yeeun, Jungwoo, and two other employees around their age: Yujin and Sanha. Jeno is grateful for the friendships he’s made through his brother’s business ventures. And it doesn’t hurt that Doyoung is extremely happy to be doing what he loves. Stressed, sure - but happy.

Today Jeno is working with Yujin and Yeeun, while Doyoung bakes in the back. It’s been about a week since the fire vision, a week since he’s had any visions at all. The potion he’d gotten from Jaemin had worked perfectly, and he’s had a relatively peaceful sleep the past few nights.

Life in general has been pretty peaceful. It’s almost disconcerting - Jeno is just waiting for the ball to drop.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

Yujin is working the counter while he pipes flowers delicately onto the top of a cake someone had ordered that morning. His tongue pokes out in concentration, eyes trained carefully on the icing. Jeno’s always been a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to decorating any of their baked goods. Doyoung insists he doesn’t have to try so hard, but Jeno takes pride in his work. Their regulars often tell him he makes the prettiest treats, and he doesn’t want to let them down.

He’s putting the finishing touches on the last flower petal when hears it: a laugh he knows better than his own. A laugh so bright and clear and beautiful that it makes Jeno’s heart instantly beat faster. A laugh he’s heard so many times that it’s become a comfort to him, something he cherishes. He never thought he’d hear such a precious sound outside of his visions, and yet here he is now, hearing it.

The laugh rings loud in Jeno’s ears, drowning out the conversation that follows. His hands begin to tremble and he’s fucked up the icing on the cake, but he’s too shaken to care at the moment. 

_Turn around,_ his brain screams at him. _Turn around and see if it’s really him._

Jeno doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t need to. He knows it’s him - there’s no way he’d mistake the laugh that’s been keeping him sane for half of his life - and he’s terrified. Instead of turning to face it, he drops everything and all but runs into the back room.

Yeeun is exiting at the same time, and Jeno barrels into her, causing her to drop a plate of croissants on the floor.

“Jen!” she exclaims, clearly distressed. “Watch where you’re—hey, what’s wrong?”

Jeno grabs onto Yeeun’s forearms and maneuvers her back into the room, further away from the shop front (and from the voice). Yeeun starts to protest, but quickly gives up when she takes in Jeno’s current frazzled state. He knows he must look absolutely crazy right now, but he doesn’t care. He’s _panicking._

“I’m panicking,” he says. His hands are still shaking in a death grip on Yeeun’s arms. Doyoung hears the fear in his brother’s voice and immediately abandons whatever task he was working on to run to his side.

“What happened?” he asks, concern dripping off of him. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Jeno says. He feels like he’s going to throw up. Probably looks it, too. “Hyung, it’s him. He’s here. He’s in the bakery.”

Doyoung’s eyes go wide.

“Who?” Yeeun asks, trying to free herself from Jeno’s hold. “Jen, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Did this guy hurt you or something? Do I need to beat him up?”

“No!” Jeno shouts, startling his companions. “No, just—oh God, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Jeno.” Doyoung reaches out and cups Jeno’s face in his hands. Jeno can feel the flaky softness of flour smudging across his skin, but he pays it no mind. The touch is only mildly comforting. “Calm down, okay? This is a good thing. It means you’ve finally found him.”

“I found him,” Jeno repeats, breathless. He lets go of Yeeun’s arms, finally, and leans back against the wall in shock. 

Yeeun rubs at the skin under her sleeves, feeling irritated and out of the loop. “Hello? Found who?” she asks. “Anyone care to explain?”

“The love of my life,” Jeno says, sliding down the wall slowly to the floor. “He’s finally here.”


	3. renjun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: car crash (near the end), death
> 
> point of clarity - yujin is choi yujin of clc, not ahn yujin of iz*one! tho i suppose it doesn't entirely matter which one you picture. 
> 
> i made a pinterest moodboard for this fic [here](https://www.pinterest.com/druidcraft/enchanted-enchanting/)! check it out for some meadowvale aesthetics~

It takes Jeno a full two minutes to calm down enough to explain. At first Yeeun thinks he must be messing with her - because wouldn’t she know if her best friend was in love with someone? But soon enough the seriousness of the situation makes itself clear. Jeno is still slumped on the grimy bakery floor, staring off into space. Yeeun crouches down next to him and waves her hand in front of his face.

“Hello? Earth to Jeno,” she huffs. “So you’ve been dreaming about this boy for what, nine years now? And you never told me?”

Jeno at least has the decency to look a little bit sheepish. “I’m sorry,” he says, still avoiding her gaze. “Hyung is the only one who even knows. I didn’t think—I mean. I don’t know if I’m ready to meet him.”

“Well, get ready.” Yeeun stands, dusting off her work apron, and reaches out to tug on Jeno’s hands. He allows her to haul him back up without much thought. “Because we’re going to go meet him right now.”

“What—”

And then she’s dragging him back out into the main lobby of the bakery, ignoring the utter look of fear on his face as he stumbles after her. Jeno’s heart is thrumming so loudly in his chest that he can barely hear Doyoung laughing from behind them. Traitor.

“Alright, which one is he?”

Yeeun drops Jeno’s wrist, but keeps a ready stance in case he tries to run away again. Jeno grimaces - he knows better than to try and outrun Yeeun. From the register, Yujin turns and gives them both a curious look, likely wondering why they’d suddenly disappeared. Jeno waves her off with an apologetic smile, takes a deep breath, and lifts his gaze to the lobby.

His eyes easily flit past the nice elderly witch from down the road; a pair of women who are so beautiful, Jeno thinks they must be vampires; and another group of regulars who always buy out their donuts before closing. There’s one person Jeno doesn’t recognize, but he knows instantly that it isn’t him. In fact, none of them are.

“He isn’t here anymore,” he breathes. And despite how nervous he’d been a few minutes prior, Jeno feels the disappointment begin to settle in. Had he imagined the whole thing? Was he ever really here at all?

“What? Aw, come on.” Yeeun throws her hands up in the air, then gives Jeno a sympathetic smile. “Maybe he had to leave. Not everyone sticks around after they order, you know?”

Inexplicably, Jeno feels like he might cry. He doesn’t, though.

“Yeah.”

Suddenly, Yujin chimes in from behind them. “Who?” she asks. “You mean that boy who came in just a few minutes ago?”

Jeno intakes a sharp breath. “So he  _ was _ here.”

“Yeah,” Yujin says, giving him a calculating look. “Two boys came in and ordered some drinks, then left. They said they’re new in town. I think they’re the ones who just moved into the house on the hill. Why, do you know them?”

Of course. The house on the hill… Jeno knew he had a weird feeling about that place. 

“No,” he says, blushing. “No, not really.”

Yeeun nudges him in the side. “Don’t look so down,” she says. “Now you know who he is! And I bet he’ll come back. If not, you can always go visit and welcome him to the neighborhood.”

“Yeah.” It seems to be the only word Jeno knows how to say, now. He stares off in a daze for a moment, imagining how nerve-wracking it’d be to just waltz up to his house and introduce himself. Then he blinks, turning back to Yujin. “Um—you said there were two boys. What did they look like? And did you happen to catch their names?”

Yujin, bless her heart, doesn’t ask any incriminating questions or tease him. Jeno has never been more grateful that she is the one working with them today, and not Jungwoo or Sanha. He never would have survived this conversation if one of them was here, instead.

“Mmm…one of them was taller, with dyed purple hair. Really nice cheekbones. His name was um… Chenle? I think? I’m not sure how to pronounce it.”

Jeno nods, urging her to continue. That’s not the guy, though he does wonder who he is in relation to the boy from his dreams. A brother, maybe?

“The other one was kinda short and skinny,” Yujin continues. “Brown fluffy hair. He introduced himself as Renjun.”

_ Renjun. _

His breath catches. 

“Thank you,” he says, weakly. Yeeun pats him on the arm, a nonverbal way of asking if he’s alright. He nods to her and lets out a deep exhale.

“No problem.” Yujin shrugs. “Oh, by the way, did you finish icing that cake? The client called and said they’ll be here to pick it up in an hour.”

Jeno goes white as a sheet as he remembers that he’s at work and does, in fact, have a job to do. He scrambles back to his work station, where said cake sits, half-decorated with lovely flowers and half-desecrated with shaky scribbles. He assesses the damage and determines that it will probably take him most of the hour to get it perfect, especially in his current distracted state.

_ “Fuck,” _ he curses, rolling up his sleeves. 

Renjun will have to wait.

  
  
  
  
  


Jeno is still in a bit of a daze when he gets home from work. He isn’t feeling up to Doyoung’s interrogation, so he quickly escapes into his room, where he immediately starts rummaging through his things for a sketchbook.

He collects sketchbooks like other people his age collect enamel pins. By now he must have almost a hundred of them: some so worn that the cover has completely fallen off, others crisp and new and barely opened. Jeno finds the one he’s looking for and carefully wipes the dust off the outside. It’s been a while since he used this particular sketchbook. It had been a gift from his middle school art teacher, who told him to keep all of his most precious memories inside. Jeno feels a bit embarrassed now as he runs his fingers along the blue cloth cover. He wonders how that teacher is doing now - if she’s found another lonely kid to take under her wing.

Inside are all sketches of the boy from his dreams. Of  _ Renjun.  _ Jeno runs the name through his head several times, trying to get used to the sound and the way it feels on the tip of his tongue. He flips through the pages until he gets to a blank one. While most of his sketchbooks fill up fast, this one is reserved for special occasions.  _ “For your most precious memories,”  _ as Ms. Lim had said. 

His hands hesitate for a moment before settling on the image of Renjun from his vision the week prior. He tries to imagine him in the bakery, eyes lit up with laughter. 

He grabs a pencil and starts sketching.

  
  
  
  
  


The next day finds Jeno trekking up the hill towards Renjun’s house. It’d taken him hours to psych himself up for the journey, and he’d almost changed his mind four different times. If it weren’t for Yeeun’s insistent prodding, he likely would have chickened out.

In his hands rests a paper box with a neat ribbon on top. It’s filled with fresh pastries which Jeno had made and decorated himself. He’s included a variety of baked goods inside, because Yujin was completely unhelpful when Jeno asked her what she thought the new guys would like  _ (“They only ordered drinks; how should I know?”) _ . Jeno can only hope that out of the dozen treats in the box, Renjun likes at least one of them.

And his brother(?), too. Of course this isn’t just about Renjun.

...but it’s mostly about Renjun. Jeno’s been anxious to meet him ever since he realized it was an option. Yeeun’s idea to welcome him to the neighborhood had stuck in his brain, and so here he is.

Jeno wipes the sweat from his palms on his pants as he makes his way up the hill. Meadowvale, despite its name, is really more of a valley - a homey little town lined with cobblestone streets, situated between a hill and a forest. While most of the residential buildings line the hillside, Renjun’s new home is known as  _ the  _ house on the hill because it is the largest and most noticeable from below. A grand mansion overlooking the town from the very top - no wonder there are so many ghost stories about such a place.

The bakery is at the bottom of the hill. It’s quite the trek up to the haunted house, but Jeno pushes forward despite the burn in his legs. Maybe he should work out more. The fact that he’s tired already is more than a little embarrassing.

After what feels like ages, Jeno crests the top of the hill. He stops for a moment to steady himself with a few deep breaths. He fixes his hair. He straightens out his shirt. 

“Let’s do this,” he mumbles.

“Do what?”

Jeno jumps in surprise, nearly dropping the box of pastries. He turns to find one of the neighborhood poltergeists, Yangyang, laughing and floating in mid air next to him.

“Yangyang. You scared me,” he whines, desperately willing his heart to stop racing. “Have you been following me this whole time?”

“Nah.” Yangyang snorts. Suddenly, the box in Jeno’s hands starts levitating as Yangyang closely examines it. “What’s this? Is it for me?”

Jeno feels his heart jump in his chest. “No, please be careful with that,” he begs. “It’s a gift for the new neighbors.”

“Oooooh,” Yangyang coos, but doesn’t put the box down. Instead he continues circling it like a bird of prey. “You mean my new victims? Are you going to see them now? Can I come with?”

“Victims?” Jeno gulps. His eyes still haven’t left the box - he fears that if he looks away for even one second, Yangyang will drop it on the ground or something. He’s been known to do worse things before, that’s for sure. 

“Yeah,” Yangyang says with a shrug. “They moved into  _ my  _ house, so obviously I’m going to bother them. I’m excited. There hasn’t been anyone new in a while. It was getting so  _ boring  _ around here.”

Jeno clears his throat. “Right.”

“Right. So, can I come with you?”

“I—sure, whatever,” Jeno sighs. “But can I have my box back please? It’s important and I don’t want anything to happen to it.”

Yangyang rolls his eyes, but floats the box back into Jeno’s hands. “Yeah, yeah. There you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing, psychic boy. Now what are you waiting for? The front door’s right there.”

Jeno grimaces, but his discomfort is quickly replaced with nervousness as he realizes Yangyang is right: the front door _is_ right there. The boy of his dreams is only a few steps away, and all Jeno has to do is knock.

He gulps.

“Okay,” he says, quietly psyching himself up. “Okay. You got this, Jeno.”

“Are you talking to yourself? Weirdo—”

Jeno ignores Yangyang and steps onto the welcome mat. He takes another deep, steadying breath before reaching up for the large ornate knocker. The wood is heavy in his hand, and Jeno can feel himself shaking, but he pushes forward. For Renjun.

There’s a beat of unbearable silence before Jeno hears some shuffling from inside. His heartbeat quickens with each audible footfall. Behind the door, someone shouts at someone else to stop running in the hallways.

The door opens moments later, but it’s not Renjun who answers. 

Instead, Jeno is met with a boy around his height with purple hair - the one called Chenle, according to Yujin - who greets him with a confused smile.

“Hey,” he says. Yujin wasn’t wrong about the cheekbones, Jeno notes. “Who are you?”

“Um, hi,” Jeno says, fidgeting in place. “I’m—”

_ “BOO!” _

Once again, Jeno jumps in place at the sudden shout of Yangyang’s voice. In front of him, Chenle bursts into laughter. Jeno feels his cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

“Oh, hey Yangyang!” Chenle laughs.

Jeno looks between them. “You guys know each other?”

“Yeah,” Yangyang grins, giving a little wave. “He paid me twenty bucks to camp out in his brother’s room the first night they moved in here.”

“Okay? Wait… what does a ghost need $20 for?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would, actually. That’s why I asked…”

Yangyang and Chenle break into twin bouts of laughter, and Jeno sighs. It seems like those two will get along swimmingly. Feeling awkward again, Jeno shifts his stance. Then he hears it: the voice.

“What’s so funny?” Renjun calls out from behind Chenle, and Jeno feels his heart stop. It’s like the bakery incident all over again - but this time, he tries to steady himself. This time he’s at least somewhat prepared. Inside the house, a smaller figure comes bounding down the stairs. Jeno hopes to god his hands aren’t visibly shaking. He grips the box of pastries tighter.

“Nothing, ge,” Chenle answers. He shifts slightly, making room for Renjun to join him in the doorway. 

He’s beautiful.

That’s all that’s running through Jeno’s mind as he stands there, staring like a deer in the headlights. Renjun is so fucking beautiful. Even more beautiful than he ever could have imagined, more beautiful than his sketches and the dreams combined. Jeno almost can’t believe he’s real.

He licks his lips.

“Uh, hi.”

Renjun quirks his brow, curious and amused. He gives Jeno a soft smile that makes his heart sing. “Hi,” he says. “Can I help you? I hope these two aren’t giving you too much trouble. Chenle’s just sort of like that. I’m Renjun, by the way.”

“I know,” Jeno blurts before he can stop himself. He can feel the heat flooding his cheeks and tries his best to ignore the very pointed looks of Yangyang and Chenle, who are watching him with interest. “I mean, I heard. I’m Jeno. From the bakery.”

Jeno holds out the box of pastries, ribbon now askew and edges slightly dented from the press of his thumbs. Renjun eyes it with surprise, but reaches out and takes it nonetheless.

“Oh,” he says. “Thank you, Jeno from the bakery. I don’t remember seeing you there when we came in yesterday. Are you the owner?”

“My brother is.” Jeno tries not to get too caught up on how his name sounds coming out of Renjun’s mouth. He doesn’t have the mental or emotional capacity to handle that right now. “I—we wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. Those are some of our best selling items. But we have other stuff too, if none of that is to your liking! You can always come in and try whatever. If you want. And we sell drinks too… but I guess you knew that already. Uh. Yeah.”

Next to him, Yangyang snorts. Jeno knows he’s in a world of teasing later, but he tries not to worry about that too much right now. Right now, the only thing that matters is Renjun.

“Thanks,” Renjun says again. The tips of his lips curl up into a shy smile as he opens the box, taking a peek at the baked goods inside. The smell of sugar and deep fried dough seeps into the air. Renjun inhales deeply, eyes slipping closed. “Smells delicious.”

“Thank you,” Jeno says, stumbling over his words a bit. Chenle leans over into his brother’s space, causing Renjun to let out an annoyed huff and push at his shoulders. Jeno finds the action so endearing that his brain short circuits for a second.

“You’re going to share those, right?” Chenle says, sticking his fingers into the box. Renjun swats at his hand and closes it, re-securing the ribbon.

“Of course,” he says. “Jeno brought them for the whole family.”

Chenle glances up at Jeno with a Cheshire grin. “Did he? Seems like he’s here for you, ge.”

Oh god. He’s being so, so obvious, isn’t he? Jeno shakes his head and shoves his hands in his sweatshirt pocket, nervous. “It’s for your whole family,” he insists. “From mine. You’re welcome to stop by the bakery anytime. And, um, I hope you settle in smoothly.”

Renjun sends him another smile. Jeno feels yet another piece of his heart seize up and die.

“Sure, thank you,” Renjun says. “I’ll stop by often. What hours do you work?”

Jeno doesn’t remember much of the conversation after that. All he remembers is Renjun promising to visit him while he’s on shift, and the euphoric feeling that carried him through the rest of the afternoon.

  
  
  
  
  


Renjun visits the bakery the very next day. The guttural squeak that leaves his throat when he sees him walk through the door is almost as embarrassing as the way Yeeun smacks him in the arm, asking very loudly if that’s “the guy.” Jeno has half a mind to escape to the back room again, but Renjun has already spotted him and is giving him a bright, cheerful wave.

Yeeun pushes him towards the cash register. He does his best to steady his breathing, but it’s a bit difficult when he realizes Renjun is wearing a pastel sweater that’s a little too big for him. He has  _ sweater paws.  _ Jeno thinks he might die.

“Hi,” he manages to say as Renjun approaches. Still in disbelief, he lets slip, “You’re here.”

Renjun laughs. “I am,” he says. “Hey, Jeno. How are you today?”

It’s so simple. This is such a simple conversation, and yet Jeno feels like his throat is going to close in on him if he doesn’t say the exact right thing. He offers Renjun a smile and tugs at the ends of his apron nervously. He’s suddenly so self-conscious - did he brush his hair today? Does his breath smell? Does he have any coffee stains on his shirt?

“I’m good,” he says, despite feeling like he may explode at any given moment. “How are you? Oh— what can I get for you?”

“Actually… I was hoping you had some more of those cookie things you brought me yesterday.” Renjun’s cheeks tinge red at the request, and Jeno feels his heart clench. “The um… little round ones? I don’t know what they’re called, sorry.” He glances over at the display case, eyes roaming.

It takes Jeno a moment to know what he’s talking about. He’d shoved nearly every dessert into that box, and many of them were round.

“Oh! Do you mean the yakgwa? Was it honey flavored?”

Renjun’s eyes light up and he nods. “Yeah! I think so. Chenle ate almost all of them; I barely even got a taste. But it was really good. Do you have more?”

Now it’s Jeno’s turn to blush. Not only because Renjun was complimenting his baking, but also because now he has to admit to something he would have rather kept hidden. “Oh,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. “We don’t, actually. They take a long time to make so we don’t always sell them. I sort of made that batch special for you.”

Next to him, Yeeun snorts. Renjun stares at him with something like awe in his eyes, clearly surprised by this information. 

“Wait, you made those?” he asks, leaning forward with interest. “Did you make everything in the box?”

Jeno knows the tips of his ears must be bright red by now. But Renjun seems genuinely impressed with him, so it’s worth the embarrassment. “Um, yeah.”

“Jeno! That’s amazing!” Renjun slaps one of his hands -  _ sweater paws  _ \- onto the counter. “You’re really talented. I’ll just take whatever you recommend, then? Something you made. And maybe some tea, if you have it?”

“Sure,” Jeno croaks. “What kind?”

“Any black tea is fine.”

The conversation fizzles as Jeno agonizes over what to give Renjun, eyes flitting between the different options in the display case. Eventually he settles on one of the fresh eclairs he’d helped Doyoung make that morning. As he’s finishing up Renjun’s order, Doyoung himself emerges from the back. He takes one look at Renjun, holds meaningful eye contact with Yeeun for three seconds, and clears his throat.

“Jen,” he calls out.

Jeno startles, nearly dropping Renjun’s tea. He turns to face his brother, frazzled. “Yeah?”

“You can take your break now. Jungwoo will be in in a few minutes. I’ll hold down the fort until he gets here.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s so obvious, obvious enough that Renjun has probably caught on, as well. How mortifying. Jeno steels himself and turns back to Renjun, offering him a small smile along with his pastry.

“Um,” he says. “Do you maybe want to… sit together for my break?”

He’s surprised by how easily the question tumbles out of his mouth. He’s nervous as all hell right now, but there’s something so inherently comforting about Renjun’s presence. Renjun gives him another bright smile and nods. 

“I’d love that,” he says.

Jeno can’t help but grin back.

  
  
  
  
  


Twenty minutes goes by too quickly. Conversation between the two of them flows naturally, like they’ve known each other forever. Jeno learns that Renjun and his family - his mother, his step-father, and his younger step-brother Chenle - moved from the city. They chose Meadowvale for its proximity to the local college, which Chenle will be attending in the coming fall. Renjun doesn’t say much about his own education, for which Jeno is secretly glad. He doesn’t want to admit to Renjun that he barely made it through high school, himself. 

Renjun asks a lot of questions about Meadowvale, especially the people in it. The city he’s from is almost entirely human - no “supernaturals” in sight. Renjun is fascinated by the stories Jeno tells, and Jeno is fascinated by his fascination. There’s something so pure and endearing about the way Renjun’s eyes light up at the mention of magic. 

“Can  _ you  _ do any magic?” Renjun asks, leaning forward on his elbows in rapt attention. “Can you teach me?”

Jeno bites at his bottom lip and averts his eyes. “Ah, no,” he says - and it’s only  _ sort  _ of a lie. He wouldn’t exactly call his visions magic. And he certainly wouldn’t teach Renjun how to have them, even if he could. “It’s genetic. I don’t have it. There’s some legends of people teaching themselves spells and stuff but… I don’t know anyone who has done that. Every witch I know was born into it.”

Renjun nods in understanding. He glances around the bakery for a moment with curious eyes. “What about your friends? Er, coworkers? I noticed you guys have some magical things on your menu. Does someone enchant them?”

“Ah, yeah,” Jeno hums. “My brother has a partnership with the local apothecary. My friend, Jaemin - his family owns it. They give us potions and stuff and we incorporate them into some of our recipes. It’s all harmless magic, though, don’t worry. Things like a spell to help you focus better, or healing potions.”

Renjun’s eyes crinkle up in a smile. “Like smoothie supplements,” he says.

Jeno laughs. “Yeah, kinda.”

“That’s neat. So your brother, he’s a regular human, too?”

Jeno tries not to cringe at “regular human.” If only Renjun knew.

“Yeah,” he says. “Doyoung bakes everything the old fashioned way. We don’t use any magic here, besides what we get from Jaemin’s family. Yujin - she’s the one who served you that first day you came in - she’s got pixie blood. But she’s mostly human, so all she got out of it was like, being tiny and cute. And Jungwoo can talk to animals. I think his ancestors were some of the original druids or something.”

“Whoa,” Renjun says, eyes wide. “That’s so cool!”

“Yeah. Sanha always tries to convince us he’s part giant, but I don’t really believe him,” Jeno continues. “And Yeeun, she’s my best friend; her mom is a witch. But I guess it skipped a generation, because she can’t do any magic. She complains about it nearly every day.”

Renjun giggles. The sound is like music to Jeno’s ears. He has to take a moment to gather himself.

“I would, too, if I were in her situation,” Renjun says. “That’s so neat, though. I can’t wait to learn all about this place. Thanks for indulging all my questions, Jeno. You’re so nice.”

It’s a compliment Jeno’s heard countless times throughout his life, but coming from Renjun, it feels different. Like it actually means something, like it’s the greatest compliment in the world.

“No problem,” he says, trying to will the heat away from his face. “Anytime.”

When he returns to his shift, he can’t stop smiling. Renjun leaves the bakery with Jeno’s phone number and a promise to come back again soon. Jeno can’t wait until he does.

  
  
  
  
  


One of his worst visions to date came when he was eight years old.

He was eight years old, and he’d watched his best friends die. Or rather - he’d watched the best friends of the person whose consciousness he was “inhabiting” die. Either way, there they were, splayed out in front of him in a mess of blood and debris. One of them called out to him for help before giving up. The other was gone on impact.

Car crash.

It was absolutely gruesome. The survivor’s guilt had almost ruined him. He’d stayed in bed for weeks, refusing to eat and retching up what little food his body still had left. He was only eight. He was in the third grade.

He decided not to have any best friends, after that.

Of course this was easier said than done. Naturally, some people managed to weave their way into Jeno’s little network of trusted people. First Doyoung, then his boyfriend, Taeil. Then Yeeun, who became his first  _ real  _ best friend. And slowly, the other bakery folks, too.

But Jeno still keeps his heart close to the chest. He knows what it feels like to lose someone you love. So he gives his love sparingly, out of fear that it may one day be ripped from underneath him.

  
  
  
  
  


“Jen, are you okay? You’ve been spacing out for like, the entire movie.”

It’s Saturday, Jeno and Yeeun’s designated movie day. “Supernatural Saturday,” they call it: a day to watch shitty supernatural horror movies and laugh at the inaccuracies. It’s usually Jeno’s favorite day of the week, but today, he can’t for the life of him pay attention. At this rate, they’ll have to start their  _ Leprechaun  _ marathon over.

Yeeun’s voice is dripping with concern. Jeno knows that tone - it’s the tone she always uses when he shows even an ounce of discomfort. He sighs, shifting to hug his knees to his chest. He loves Yeeun, he really does, but sometimes he wishes she wasn’t so overprotective. He already has Doyoung for that.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Just thinking.”

“Oh no. Be careful not to strain your one brain cell,” she jokes. Jeno throws a pillow at her. She laughs. “Thinking about what? Renjun?”

The deep flush that paints his face is all the answer she needs.

“He’s cute,” Yeeun giggles. “You guys look good together. I’m happy for you, Jen.”

“Why,” Jeno mumbles, embarrassed. “It’s not like we’re dating or anything. We just met.”

“Well, yeah.” Yeeun rolls her eyes. “But your visions said you’ll be dating eventually, right? So like, you know it’s going to happen sooner or later. And he already seems to like you a lot.”

Jeno doesn’t bother mentioning that the visions were more than just dating. He’s pretty sure they were married in some of them, much to his delight and embarrassment. But Yeeun doesn’t need to know that.

“Stop,” he whines. “I haven’t had time to process that yet. Besides, what if the visions don’t come true? I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

Yeeun gives him a calculating look. “Your visions are never wrong, Jeno. You know that.”

He knows. But he also knows that fate can be tampered with. It’s how he’s prevented so many catastrophes already - who’s to say he won’t prevent this from happening, too?

Jeno shrinks in on himself. “What if I mess it up?”

On screen, a leprechaun brutally murders an innocent woman. Yeeun grimaces before reaching over to pause the movie. She then turns to Jeno with a soft, sad smile.

“Oh, Jen,” she says, reaching out to pull him into a hug. He accepts the cuddles easily, resting his head on her shoulder. “You won’t mess it up. He’s already so taken with you. Didn’t you notice? Everything will be fine.”

He hopes she’s right. But at the same time…

“I’m afraid to get too attached,” he mumbles. “What if something bad happens to him?”

Yeeun runs a comforting hand through his hair. “You can’t let that stop you from experiencing something really great,” she says. “The visions are nice, right? You said they make you happy.”

Jeno snuggles closer, embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“Then chase that feeling. Don’t live your life in fear of losing something before you even have it.”

Jeno doesn’t have the heart to respond. If only it were that easy.

**Author's Note:**

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